


Any Other Team

by somanyfeels



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Anxiety Attacks, Bonding, Coming Out, First Meetings, Hockey Rivalries, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Injury Recovery, M/M, Minor Violence, Outing, Protectiveness, Secret Relationship, Team as Family, nhl!Bitty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-01
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-11-05 00:04:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11001783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somanyfeels/pseuds/somanyfeels
Summary: Fresh out of college hockey and signed onto a pro team, Bitty felt lost.  He was still in shock that an actual team wanted him even after the months of practice and weeks after the regular season started.  He was too focused on proving himself, showing that whatever bit of talent and promise they had seen in him when they signed him was worth the investment, to pay much attention to a rivalry that had started years ago.  He didn't even know it existed until the game actually started.





	1. Chapter 1

This game was different.  Bitty could tell it was different because of how nervous the team was.  Ever since he had signed on to an actual NHL team, because for some reason they thought he would make the cut, every game was nerve wracking until his skates hit the ice.  Today felt so strange, everyone looked grim and angry despite how well they were doing.  Just a few weeks into the season and the team was winning game after game.

“Am I missing something?”  Bitty asked as they sat down on the bench beside the ice, the game moments from starting.

“You’re missing the pre-game pies is what you’re doing.  I know I’m missing them.”  Dodge said.  Bitty was put on his line because they worked well together, he was fast while Dodge was strong.  Getting checked by him was like getting hit by a truck while Bitty slipped by with the puck.

“I got in trouble last time.  No more pies before games.  And I have to wait for the cheat days, so there will be so many pies it’ll make up for it.”  Bitty said, grimacing at the memory of how the nutritionists banned him from the team kitchen for weeks.  “But I mean, is something going on with the team.  Everyone looks so mad.”

Dodge chuckled and shook his head.  He clapped Bitty on the shoulder and told him not to worry.  It didn’t help, Bitty was still a rookie.  This was his very first regular season and after so much practice he knew the ice, he knew his teammates, and he knew how to play the game the way his new team played it, but all of that didn’t get rid of the nerves.

“You’ll be fine kid, just stay out of the way.  You’re fast so they won’t catch you if you pay attention, but if someone gets you don’t turtle, they won’t let you live that down.  Nothing should happen though, you’re the new kid and if someone goes after you we’ll come get you.”  Dodge promised.

He was a good guy, clapping Bitty on the shoulder again before he turned his attention back to the ice.  Bitty did not feel reassured, something was definitely different with this game.  The starting line all got into position for the opening face-off.  They were all crouched low, their red uniforms clearly signaling their team from the opponents, dressed in cool blues.  Bitty watched as it seemed a few of the players were talking to one another, too far away and too softly for Bitty to hear but the two teams were talking.  The moment the puck dropped the game started faster than anything, Bitty knew his teammates could skate fast and they seemed to blur together in the fastest and roughest plays he had seen so far.

The fights started early, Bitty saw as Lancaster slammed into the player with the puck and in the blink of an eye the gloves were off and they had a tight grip on their jerseys as they tried to pound into each other.  Barely five minutes into the game and they were wrestling each other onto the ground and when other players tried to join in, either to wrestle them apart or turn it into a brawl, the referees started to break it up.  Two players in the penalty box but no serious injuries, just a few bruises and bleeding scrapes.

The game continued on like that.  Bitty had seen his team play before, taking checks and hits and brushing it off as if it was nothing.  He had seen some of the biggest guys in the league take down his teammates and they didn’t bat an eye.  Years of hockey made him familiar with fighting, it came arm and arm with the game just like the ice did, but Bitty was surprised at this.  Back at Samwell the team didn’t actively seek out fights, his old co-ed team back in Madison had no checking altogether, and now he was watching the two teams go at each other like it came naturally to them.  The two teams were meant to fight it out like this.

Bitty’s head snapped up at his name coming from the coach’s mouth.  Dodge squeezed his shoulder and hopped over the barrier, Bitty was quick to follow.  The game was fine, Bitty knew the score and he knew the plays perfectly.  He was fast enough to not get hit.  He would be okay.  The puck went back into play and the teams started fighting to get it.  The ice was usually calming, it was easier to actually be playing the game than waiting to play it.  He just had to focus on the puck, where his teammates were and where the opponents were going.

Breathing slowly, he followed Dodge across the ice.  The Falconers were fast, they were a good team and they had the puck.  Bitty worked fast, waiting for someone to give him an opening.  It came as Dodge slammed into the guy with the puck, knocking him against the wall and as Bitty moved in to take the puck all the players turned to him.  He didn’t have to score, he just had to get the puck across the ice.  He had to get to at least close to the net because they had planned for this, had set up so many strategies and Bitty knew them all, his body could do them naturally because of all the practice.

He saw the D-man coming, his breathing stopped and he almost froze up.  If he was still a freshman he might have actually collapsed right then and there, but he was fast.  He spun, moving quickly out of the way and taking the puck with him.  He was close, he could make the shot, the goalie was staring straight at him and Bitty had to keep moving or he would get caught.  This was his shot, his first season in the NHL and he had to prove to himself that whatever those scouts saw in him was really there.  He gripped his stick tightly to stop his hands from shaking as he looked at the large blue player skate towards him fast.  He swung, firing the puck at the neck and hoping for the best as a large weight crashed into him almost instantly.  There wasn’t time for him to get out of the way just like there wasn’t time for the player to stop the momentum he had built up.

Bitty hit the ice, but the check wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be.  It didn’t hurt at all in fact, he just laid there stunned for half a second and the crowd was screaming.  The puck had gone into the goal, he did it.  Bitty had started pushing himself up when he saw Hyde, his own team’s defenseman slam into the guy that checked him.  Another fight broke out just inches from Bitty.  Hyde threw the first few punches while another guy grabbed Dodge to stop him from skating over.

“He didn’t have the fucking puck!” Someone shouted.  Bitty couldn’t tell who it was but he knew he had to get away from the fighting before he got wrapped up into it.  But the moment he was standing someone grabbed onto his jersey and pulled him away from Hyde and the fight.

Bitty tried to struggle away, he wasn’t a fighter in any sense of the word.  The other guy wasn’t throwing punches or trying to wrestle him to the ground, he just held onto his jersey as they slowly moved away from the action.  Bitty looked up at him, he was taller and definitely stronger.  It was pretty damn hard to learn the names of every player in the league but Bitty was getting there.  Number one for the Falconers was Zimmermann and even a rookie like him had head that name enough times.

Zimmermann wasn’t fighting him, he wasn’t throwing punches or acting at all aggressive, he was just holding onto him.  Bitty was still terrified, hockey was a contact sport and this was already too much contact for him, at least with so many people screaming and the refs trying to break them all apart.  The goal was good though, it was solid and they had a one point lead now.

When Zimmermann finally let him go it was a relief, Bitty took a deep breath and started to move away back to his side of the rink.  “Try not to start anymore fights,” Zimmermann said before he had skated away.  Bitty didn’t acknowledge him, he was just happy the situation didn’t escalate further and he had made a legitimate contribution to the team.

He was swept up by Dodge, almost picking him up off of the ice with a loud cheer.  “Damn good shot, kid.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay. I am without internet at the moment so I am getting some writing done but I won't be able to publish much for the next few weeks. So once I get internet again hopefully I can update much more often. Thank you for the patience.

Bitty was crammed between two giant men as the team all gathered around for dinner. Some of them were nursing ice packs and many of them were exhausted. They could hardly keep their eyes open after the amount of hard work they had put in. It was late, most of them had eaten hours ago but from what Bitty understood it was tradition to get food after a game. Even though they had lost.

“Assholes are probably having the night of their lives. Don’t worry, kid. We’ll get them next time.” Dodge said, elbowing Bitty in the side.

They were eating at some all-day breakfast house where they had to get food packed with protein and vegetables and Bitty was forbidden to order muffins. Pie was out of the question. He ordered a latte and munched on some mixed fruit while the rest of the team fought over syrup bottles.

“It’s okay, Dodge. We can’t win them all. But I’m sure if we work hard we can do better.” Bitty said and he offered the most reassuring smile he had.

Dodge shrugged. “We can handle losing sometimes, it happens, but losing to the Falconers is damn near unacceptable.” He said. Bitty thought he would break his plate with how hard he jabbed it with his fork.

“Why?”

Bitty almost shrank in on himself when all of the players around him paused to give him a look. He felt like he had said something stupid and ruined his chance of ever being friends with these guys. Lancaster started laughing while Sausage put an arm around Bitty’s shoulders and shook him playfully.

“Because they’re the Falcs, Bit. They hate us, we hate them, and water is wet.” Sausage said. He kept squeezing Bitty against his side. He was a big guy. He made Bitty feel very small as he was practically half as tall and three times as scrawny, but the man was surprisingly gentle and fun rather than too rough and scary. “But you don’t have to worry about a thing. This rivalry has been going on for years and it’s not likely to end any time soon. Fight would have broken out anyway even if their guy didn’t check you after you made a goal.”

“Yeah Bitty. You’re a rookie so you’re new to it, but they took a hit on you when you didn’t have the puck anymore. That’s the kind of bullshit hockey the Falconers play. Now you know.” Dodge said. 

“But I’m sure it was an accident. They were coming at me when I still had the puck. Maybe they didn’t mean it and it’s all a big misunderstanding?” Bitty asked.  
There was really no good reason for him to be making excuses for them, but he felt like if the Falconers were truly that awful they would have checked him harder instead of just enough to get him on the ground. If they were so full of bad players and bad people than Zimmermann would have had the perfect opportunity to hit him instead of just grabbing him and pulling him from the brawl to make sure he couldn’t jump in and help.

The only excuse he could think of for himself was that it wasn’t very good sportsmanship. He couldn’t bring himself to hate a group of people just because they were on a specific team. But he also knew he couldn’t change anyone else’s mind, they had lost any anger and disappointment from the loss and instead were now planning for the next game, their eyes set on beating the Falconers more than they were focused on making the playoffs.

They all finished eating and got ready to head out. It was late, the streets were mostly empty and the buildings were dark except for a few lit up windows. Bitty shouldn’t have gotten a latte, too much caffeine and he would be up all night baking mini-pies to sneak to the teams. Most of them were sworn to secrecy anyway, they wouldn’t tell the nutritionists and the coaches were easily bribed as long as Bitty cut back on the sugar. It broke his heart but he agreed.

“Need a ride, kid?” Dodge asked as they all milled around the parking lot.

Bitty nodded and wasted no time in climbing into the passenger seat of his van. “You don’t have to. I know my apartment is a bit out of the way.” He said once he was inside.

“Shut up, you know I’m driving you home. Besides, I love spending quality time with the rookies.” Dodge said.

Bitty liked Dodge’s van because if he looked in the backseat he could see the car seats, the crayon markings on the doors and the cheerios smooshed into the floor. He had a miniature family photo dangling from the mirror. Most of their teammates had fancy cars with sleek interiors that they had washed religiously. Dodge had a family car and Bitty felt comfortable in it.

“So Darlene wants me to harass you over your apple pie recipe because my mother is coming into town next month and… well she wants your recipe.” Dodge said.

Bitty chuckled. “Oh, I see how it is. You wait until I’m trapped in your car before asking. And when I still have post-game jitters too.” Bitty said as he tried to sound fake scandalized.

“I know, it’s so devious. Anyway, I told her I would ask and force you to come to dinner so she can make her case. I think she has a powerpoint and everything about my mother and why she needs to make a good apple pie and how the kids would be affected if this fell through. Don’t worry about it though, she’s dramatic.” Dodge said. Bitty could see the small, fond smile on his lips and he was so tempted to just give them his great grandmother’s cherished apple pie recipe. Tempted, but his mama raised him to be stronger than that.

“Gosh if I gave that to you then I would be banished from all family gatherings. Forever. I would be disgraced.” Bitty said.

Dodge nodded. “That’s what I told her. But just hear her out and then let her down easy. Anyway, now that I brought up my wife and talked about her a bit it’s time I let you know she called me and yelled at me because I let you get hit. She can’t get a recipe if you get hurt. But I told her you were okay.” Dodge said and he glanced at Bitty for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Smooth lead into the conversation by the way. Honestly, they didn’t even hit me that hard. I can handle it, I promise.” Bitty said. 

It would be a lie to say he hadn’t been terrified, that his heart didn’t skip a beat at the sight of the player coming towards him, and that for half a second he considered running away. But he had those fears better handled now, he had played college hockey for four years and his team was always there to help pick him up and remind him that he wasn’t alone out there.

“I know you can handle it, you’re a damn good player and we’re lucky to have you. But games against the Falconers are different. I wish I could say they didn’t cloud our judgement, but they do. They’re a damn big distraction. This was just the first game of the season, and we lost. The next game is going to be more heated and if we win that will just make them more desperate to beat us too. Each game against the Falconers is always worse than the last, but it sells tickets and gets good ratings. So it’s not likely to stop and I want you to know we have your back out there.” Dodge said. He took one hand off the steering wheel and reached over to squeeze Bitty’s shoulder.

“You know, y’all are treating it like a huge issue. How did something like this start anyway?” Bitty asked.

“That’s a long and complicated story. It started years ago, someone got traded, betrayals happened, fights broke out, and resentments were formed. Hockey players have long memories. Just keep your head down and stay out of the way, but besides that you’re a good player and I think we can do just fine.” Dodge said.

They had pulled into the parking lot of Bitty’s building. It was a nice apartment building, good security and a nice kitchen. His mother had been insistent that she help him find a good, safe place to live now that he was so far away playing professional Hockey. The most important thing was that it had an elevator up to his floor and his apartment had a hot shower. His body was starting to ache now that things had calmed down so much.

He was tempted to hug Dodge, to thank him for the ride home and for looking out for him. Bitty didn’t, he just thanked him and climbed out of the van and walked into his building. He was tired now, despite the coffee he drank at their late night dinner and he decided he was ready for bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you guys are liking the hockey Romeo and Juliet like two house holds type of story because I know I am. Now featuring father figures, a guy named Sausage, and a long time hatred of the Falconers. Up Next, the Falconers.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm at the library with internet so enjoy this quick update featuring the Falconers.

It was a great season so far.  The Falconers had a streak going on and they didn’t intend to break it now, especially not with another game against Portland coming up.  Losing to Portland was like losing the Cup, but Jack tried to think of it as any other game in the 82.  He couldn’t let his focus slip, not even for a rivalry.

The other guys seemed buzzing with excitement.  They won the first game and they would win the next one.  This time it was in their own rink, in their own city.  The last game they had to fly out to Portland and they had won, this time they were on their home turf and they intended to win again.  Jack ate his sandwich during lunch, chuckling as they came up with a battle plan.

“They’ll probably send out Dodgson and Chorizo when they send out Marty and Tater.”  Thirdy said, scribbling plays down on his napkin.  “But the rookie is fast so if he gets sent out we should definitely have Jack out there.  If he gets the puck we might not ever see it again.”

“Honestly, I didn’t even see you guys prepare this much when we played the Penguins.”  Jack said.  Thirdy passed the napkin over to him and he made his own notes about the plays.  They were good, they were playing to everyone’s strengths, and had backup plans in case of different lineups from the Frontiers.  Portland was a good team, but Jack thought they were better.  “Just be careful.  Remember last time Tater checked the rookie and a brawl got started.  Those guys are too quick to start fighting.”

“I not hit rookie hard.  He fall down and get up again.  He fine.”  Tater said.

“I know, but he didn’t have the puck anymore and so Portland tried to call it a dirty hit.  Just be careful going after the rookie again, we don’t want to repeat that.”  Jack said.  While a lot of them did believe there were no rookies in rivalries it was easy to see how confused the kid had been about the whole thing.  It was his own fault though for going to Portland.

“That’s why you’re in charge of the rookie, Jack.  You’re not nearly as mountainous as Tater and you might be fast enough to keep up.  You have the best shot.”  Marty said as he took his own turn writing notes into the margins of the napkin.

“If you guys put this much effort into every game we would have the Cup by now.” Jack said.  The other guys started to wave him away dismissively.  “Don’t get me wrong, I hate the Frontiers, but we’re a good team and this time we’re playing in our home.  They don’t stand a chance.”

“You of all people are telling us to stop over preparing?”  Marty asked.

Jack shook his head.  “No, I think we should over prepare more.  For every team.  Because right now we have game plans on top of game plans for one team.  If we stop worrying so much about them and more about everyone else we’ll do amazing.”  Jack said.  He wanted to seem calm and put together.  He just made Alternate and he wanted to be a leader.  Sure, he wanted to beat the Frontiers.  He wanted to send them home with another loss and some of them may be because he wanted payback.  Tater had gotten out of last game’s brawl with a split lip and blood dripping down his face and it pissed him off.

“So Jack, are you ready to lead every pre-game battle planning session, because I only really have the energy for these ones.”  Thirdy said.  By now the napkin was completely covered in scribbles from several different handwritings.  They had a solid plan going on.

“If it helps the team keep winning, then yes.  And if we win the cup the whole team has to buy me dinner.  All of you taking turns.  One by one.”  Jack said.  He wanted the cup.  He needed it because season after season they got close enough to touch it but then it would slip away to a different team.

If Jack wanted to win the cup he could have gone to a team that had already gotten it.  The Falconers had only ever made the playoffs, had even gotten to the final games of the championship, but never won.  It was fine though, The Falcs were a good fit for him, especially since it was decided he needed to love hockey again instead of just focusing on the need to win games.  But after a few years of trying to go easy on himself he really needed to win.

“Deal, but if we lose you take the team to the bar.  Pay for as many rounds as needed.”  Thirdy said.

Jack couldn’t refuse.  It was better than the last wager where he needed a hat trick two games in a row and they would all shave their heads.  Jack had lost that wager, but it was close.  He lost and he had to throw out his bright yellow sneakers because Georgia hated them.  He loved those sneakers.  They shook hands on this bet and they all quickly finished their lunch.

The game wasn’t until tomorrow but already he heard that the tickets sold out and the PR team was getting hounded.  Jack wasn’t invincible to the hype of it all, he was excited as well.  Portland and Providence had a rivalry that people always talked about.  It didn’t matter in the long run towards the cup, but if one team got farther in the season than another then it felt as good as any victory could.  While Jack had his eyes on the championship he also wanted to beat the Frontiers.  Beating a rival proved something to a lot of people.

“Alright, we won on their turf and now we just have to win on ours.  We’re the better team.”  Jack said as he took a bite of his sandwich.

Lunch went by and their plans were set.  They finished up practice and the coaches gave a speech about teamwork and brotherhood, something about war and Jack found himself secretly enjoying how serious this all was to everyone.  It was nice they were all on the same page about winning and not just playing the game, but playing the best.

They all walked out into the parking lot, ready to get in their cars and head home.  They had schedules to maintain and sleep was valuable before a game.  For a lot of players they had pre-game routines that started the night before and if it worked then Jack supported it.  Someone said a joke and half the team laughed as they all moved towards their own vehicles.

There was a boy waiting in the parking lot, probably a fan who managed to figure out the schedule or had the dedication to just wait around for hours on end.  There had been a few of those but they usually weren’t an issue.  He carried a large box sitting on one arm and he ducked his head as the team walked by.  Jack tried to ignore him, as did everyone else, because if he was as nervous as he looked then he may just walk away.

“Excuse me.”  The boy said. 

Jack deflated a bit but he wasn’t going to turn the kid away.  A few of the other guys stayed behind as well while the rest took the opportunity to scurry away.  He put on his best smile and greeted the boy, stretching out his hand and the boy hurried to shift the box so it wouldn’t drop.  They shook hands and Jack was about to ask the boy if he wanted a picture or for him to sign something when he made the connection.  He saw those wide, nervous eyes and remembered the panic out on the ice as fights broke out and the boy picked himself up after a check.

“Why are you here?”  Jack asked as he pulled his hand away.  The Frontiers’ rookie was an idiot.  He should be in their hotel preparing for the upcoming game, not herein the Falconers parking lot with some stupid scheme in mind.

Marty’s hand shot out and grabbed the boy by the shirt and held it tight.  It was mostly for intimidation, the fight wasn’t fair and Jack drew a line at fighting an opposing player alone in the parking lot.  It definitely scared the kid.

“I didn’t come to spy, or threaten, or anything!  I’m just… here.”  The boy said quickly.  “Okay, so I suppose there is a reason I’m here but it’s not terrible.  I was just nervous about the game, everyone keeps talking about it and I thought I should try to bridge the gap.  I made pie, several pies actually.  A peace offering.  I’m sure this whole rivalry, feud, thing is just a big misunderstanding.  Maybe we can just get back to the game and good sportsmanship.  You know I don’t think you guys are bad, not really, maybe ju-“

“You brought pie?”  Thirdy snapped, cutting off the boy’s words.  He nodded in response.  “Is it poisoned?  Trying to get us out of the game before it even starts?  What flavors are they?”

“Um… not poisoned flavors.  I made apple pie, and cherry.  I’m trying my hand with maple and brown sugar, the flavors are lovely and I just need to find the perfect kind of pie for them.  I also made pecan pie.  I was going to make a peach one but I didn’t have time.  Besides my mama would kill me if I got anything but the best peaches.”  The boy said quickly.

Marty let go of the boy’s shirt and took the box from him.  Sure enough, a half a dozen covered pies were placed delicately inside.   It all smelled delicious but that would be such a horrible break from their strict diet.  That was probably the trap, to get them off of their game. Marty took the box anyway and held it close.

“Message received.  We will take your peace offering and consider it.”  Marty said.

They wouldn’t, Jack new them well enough to know they would eat the pie and forget about it.  They would play their hardest tomorrow and joke in the locker room about some doe eyed rookie who thought he could change their teams.  Jack almost felt bad about the kid, about his hopeful smile as he turned and walked away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So now we have the second Jack and Bitty meeting, featuring pie. It could be a sign of Bitty's goodwill or his attempt to get on their good side to avoid repeat incidents. Still, the boy is cute. Next up, sentiments.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm alive. And I'm writing again which is a relief.

Jack put the pie off limits until after the game.  It was an incentive.  If they won, it was a treat for the team but if they lost it would be thrown out.  A gift from the enemy, only to be used if they beat them down.  Marty and Thirdy didn’t argue.  Not with something as strange as this.  Jack tried not to think about any reason the Frontier’s rookie would give them a few fresh baked pies.  The only obvious answers were either a trap or a fantasy.  He didn’t trust the pies.

The game was more hyped by the press and by the fans than their last one against Portland, which always seemed to surprise Jack.  One game against one specific team could always make or break the season for a lot of people.  With or without winning the cup, a lot of people needed the Falconers to win this game.

Even though they were in Providence, there were a lot of people in the stadium wearing the colors of the Frontiers.  It had been the same when they were in Portland, half the stadium in blue just for them despite being far from home.  Jack had been in the league long enough to know that not every game was like that.  Not every rivalry even.  But it was these games that seemed to divide people, Falconers fans piled into the stadium but there was so much support for the other side as well.

These games had extra security.  Sometimes fans got too into the game and got too upset over their team losing.  Extra security always made his heart beat fast, his hands sweat, and he hated looking out and seeing them lining the rink and up in the stands.  They were preparing for something to happen and usually that meant something would definitely happen.  Jack turned his eyes back to the rink. For once he wasn’t in the first line, they had set him off to the side and told him to wait.  It didn’t feel right to not start the game.

The whistle blew and both teams were fighting over the puck, scrambling for it like desperate and starving animals over scraps.  For a moment Jack thought the first fight was already going to break out and it hadn’t even been five seconds.  His team stood up and shouted, watching as the puck slid across the ice onto their side.  The stadium lit up in a loud roar, half angry and the other half ecstatic.  One team started off with an advantage but those tended not to last long.  Jack knew his team and he knew for sure it would be only a moment or two before they pulled ahead.

Jack’s attention wandered to the other team, the ones sitting on the sidelines and waiting to be put in.  The rookie stood out, almost a head shorter than everyone else and he looked so small that it made the other men look like giants.  Jack couldn’t understand what his angle was.  Bringing what looked like homemade, freshly baked pie to a team that despises his.  On the surface it could be an act of good will but the odds of that were slim to none.  It was more likely that the pies were poison and it was a last ditch effort to knock the Falconers out of the league for good.  Jack smiled to himself and shook his head, it was ridiculous.  It was probably just some half-assed scheme to get them to throw off their diet and ruin any pre-game rituals and just throw them off for the game.

He turned his eyes back to the ice.  The Frontiers were fast, they usually played more for speed than brute force and most of the time it worked for them.  They had a strategy to beat it though, Jack had faith in his team to keep up and skate circles around them.  Portland still had the puck, Richardson was weaving through the Falconers to avoid getting hit.  They were getting close but Jack saw his own team moving in, closing the distance, but before they made the hit Richardson passed to Lancaster.  They almost scored.  Snowy saved it.

Guy’s expression was unreadable by the time he got the puck, passing it along and moving in on the defensive.  He was a large man, didn’t pick up speed as effortlessly as some others, but he was powerful and he was hard to knock down.  He stayed close to the puck, guarding it as they made their way to the other side of the court.

It didn’t take long for the first fight to breakout.  Someone rushed Poots to try and get the puck, Guy blocked him.  When someone hits Guy it’s almost as if he turns into a brick wall and the player crashes into him and falls to the ground.  Usually anyway.  This time Guy was still in motion, still moving to put himself in the way and his balance was just off enough to send him to the ground as well.  The two fell on top of one another.  It was hard to see who swung first but in a blink the gloves were off.  They were holding tight onto each other’s jerseys to keep the other from sliding away.  They didn’t even have time to stand all the way up, they were both on their knees trying to take a swing at one another.

The crowd roared as fans from both teams jumped to their feet.  They loved the fighting.  Guy was a vet, he had played the game longer than most, but even he wasn’t immune to the thrill of hearing the crowd scream as he fought a play from the rival team.  Jack wasn’t immune to it either. It was almost like a high, an addictive one.  He wanted to jump out there and skate, but coach shook his head.  They were waiting.  It was a strategy that required patience, the other team using up their best in the first few rounds, and then using specific skills to target individual players.  Jack was a lead scorer, he was fast, and he could take a hit.  He had to be saved for when Dodgson, Chorizo, and the rookie get out there.

The Frontiers seemed to be playing the long game as well, saving that lineup for later.  The three of them were fast and they were powerful.  Jack had seen the tapes, had seen the small one zoom through and around obstacles while Dodgson and Chorizo created a barrier around him, stopping anyone from even getting close to the puck.  If they were given more time to work on it, years of playing together to build up that sense of what they’re doing and where they’re going, and they might just be a line that hit the history books.  But Jack wasn’t here to admire how well they played together, he was here to beat them.

The refs had broken up the fight and the two players were on their way to the penalty box.  No serious injuries, they wouldn’t be in there for long.  The Frontiers started changing out players, bringing in the tired ones for a break and sending out a fresh line.  Jack tightened his grip on his stick, watching their coach as he spoke.  He could only imagine the words, hoping the man was instructing the right players to hit the ice.  Jack was ready to play.

He hated not starting out.  He had so much energy, so much to give to the game and sitting on the sidelines waiting was close to torture.  The game could go one way or the other at any moment and Jack wanted to be there doing everything he can to push things into his favor.  Their team had gone far, had taught him to love the game again, but now he just needed to win.

Portland sent out their players, exactly who Jack had been waiting on.  Their coach gave them the okay and so much of that pent up nerves and energy relaxed some as his feet hit the ice.  He knew what to do out here.  This was where he belonged.  Jack skated towards the center of the ice, getting in position and waiting.  No one had scored yet, the game had been going on for longer than it seemed when he glanced up at the score boards.  He needed to score. He needed to do it for the Falcs.

His eyes got caught on the rookie again.  The kid was wide eyed, still so small compared to literally everyone else on the ice at that moment.  Jack looked away.  The rookie was probably fresh out of college, plucked out of some school somewhere because he was fast.  He played good hockey, but that didn’t mean he was ready for this.  Jack wasn’t going to go easy on him, not because he was new and likely overwhelmed, not because he was too small and had the biggest brown eyes he had ever seen.  If the Frontiers thought he was good for this game then Jack wasn’t letting his guard down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck at writing sports but hopefully it isn't too bad.
> 
> There has been some debate on whether or not Bitty's team is in Portland Oregon or Portland Maine. All I can say is Dex is from Maine but I am from Oregon. I know where it is but I would love to know what your ideas are.


	5. Chapter 5

Bitty’s skates hit the ice and his heart was beating fast.  He usually didn’t get so nervous about hockey anymore.  His team usually worked together well enough that they were in good standing, the checks he didn’t manage to avoid usually weren’t too bad and he had learned a while ago to breathe slow and get through them.  But the feeling of this game was different.  They look on the Falconers’ faces through their helmets were dark and angry. But Bitty knew the same looks were likely reflected in the faces of his teammates.

The way these games usually played out meant that there would be more fights, Bitty just decided to play his best hockey and do what he could to avoid it.  The whistle blew and they were fighting for the puck.  Lancaster got it and the whole team moved in response.  They had the puck so their job was to keep it.  Bitty was the fastest, Lancaster passed him the puck and Bitty got it just as he went over the line.  He had it, keeping his stick tight in his hands and pushed himself forward. Closer to the net.  He kept willing himself closer and closer.

Zimmermann appeared in front of him, his eyes boring so hard into Bitty’s head it almost hurt.  The man was after him, closing Bitty in against the wall and so he caught the eye of the nearest teammate and made a pass.  Zimmermann’s shoulder slammed him against the glass, it was surprisingly gentle considering how fast they had been going but it was enough to slow him down.  Zimmermann was gone almost as quickly as he had come, moving to follow the ice as Dodge swooped in to get the puck.

The Falconers were a good team, they were fast and Bitty pushed himself to be faster.  Bitty took a deep breath, his soldiers tense from the check but he could handle it.  He shook it off.  He breathed slow and deep and held his stick tightly as he got his feet moving again.  Nothing mattered besides this moment.

Coach used to give him what the man thought were inspirational speeches.  Even though he was a football coach and not a hockey one the man had insisted that the speeches could transcend the boundaries of sports.  ‘The only game that matters is the one you’re playing.’  Bitty felt the words and he tried to focus on them.  It didn’t matter if they won the last game, or if they would win the next one, Bitty just needed to make sure they won this one.  He wondered briefly if he could just use that to propel himself faster as Dodge passed the puck back to him and he set his eyes on the net.  It was so close now.  It was within reach.

He fired.  Bitty heard the horn and saw the crowd jump up to cheer or scream in anger.

Bitty smiled and he lifted his arms up just in time for Dodge to crash into him and lift him into the air.  “Good shot, kid.  That was a damn good shot.”  Dodge said.  He practically carried Bitty back over to the rest of the team.

“Get two more shots like that and all your drinks are on me.”  Sausage said loudly, eagerly taking Bitty from Dodge’s arms and onto his shoulder.

“Just because y’all are built like trucks it doesn’t mean you’re allowed to carry me whenever you please.”  Bitty said.  He was laughing as he said it.  He scores one point and they all act like he won the series.

“Don’t ruin this for me.”  Sausage said and he finally set Bitty back down on his skates.

Spirits were high.  Every last one of them were feeling hopeful but that didn’t mean they could let up.  Dodge played the hardest, Bitty stuck to speed, and somehow they all made it work.  Bitty had to make it work. His first season here with this team in this league and he wanted to prove he could do it.  It wasn’t a mistake that he was out here.  Bitty’s hands were only shaking slightly as they all lined up again.  He felt the weight of Zimmermann’s gaze, heavier and angrier than it had been before.  All of the Falconers were a bit angrier.  It made Bitty’s skin crawl.

This time the Falconers got the puck and sailed onto their side of the rink.  They were playing more aggressive, not giving them the chance to take the puck from them.  Bitty wasn’t the best player for this kind of situation.  He couldn’t get in to take the puck, not from someone twice his size.  But Sausage was good at that.  He had the build and the power to slam into him, pushing his momentum into the player and the puck went flying just in time for Bitty to take it.  But as his stick snatched up the puck Zimmermann appeared again, this time not as gentle as he shoved Bitty against the ice so hard he felt the glass bend under the pressure.  It didn’t break.  The glass was strong and Bitty fell against the ice, feeling the hard chill seep into his uniform.  His head ached, not enough to worry about but enough to know it would still be hurting later.  Bitty’s hands shook and he tried to tighten his grip to get them to stop.

Zimmermann didn’t get far with the puck. It looked like he was looping around the net to keep his speed going but Dodge met him there.  He never got the chance to fire at the net.  Dodge slid into him, sending Zimmermann over his hip and Bitty watched as the man went down, his arms caught between him and the ice.  Zimmermann landed hard.  The whole rink erupted into loud shots and cheers.  The game went on as the puck went flying and both teams went after it but Bitty watched as he pushed himself up again and it became clear fast that Zimmermann wasn’t getting back up.  A shrill whistle blew and the arena was silent.

Zimmermann was clutching his arm and holding it close to his chest as he rolled onto his back.  Bitty prayed it wasn’t broken.  Some injuries were okay.  Sometimes players went back in that game, sometimes they were off for a few weeks, but a broken bone was bad. If it was broken he could be out for the rest of the season or forever, depending on so many different variables and Bitty’s heart beat fast for the man.

He could get onto his feet, leaning against Robinson as he helped him off of the ice.  Everyone watched and waited as Zimmermann disappeared behind the coaches and the trainers, into the locker room and out of sight.  Bitty looked back at Dodge, who stared intently as the man left.  Bitty skated up to him, reaching out and putting a hand on his arm.

“How’ya feeling kid?  Didn’t get too knocked on the head, right?”  Dodge asked, pinning Bitty with a wide smile.

“It hurts.  Honestly, how will I ever go one?”  Bitty said.  He laughed as Dodge rolled his eyes.

When they got ready to restart the game Zimmermann didn’t come back out.  Bitty decided to push it out of his mind and focus on the game.  Perhaps it wasn’t that bad, maybe it was a minor sprain and he would be back in a few weeks.  Injuries happened.  It was a contact sport.  It was part of the job and everyone knew the risks when they got out here, but it still made him feel uneasy about it.

When the game started again Bitty’s mind was brought back to the moment, to watching his team and making sure he weaved through the other team fast enough to not get hit.  If he got two more goals in then Sausage had to buy his drinks tonight.  Bitty had gotten a hat trick only twice in college, both of them were thrilling and both of them were rewarded with his teammates getting him roaring drunk.  He wanted to carry on the tradition.

The second shot wasn’t that hard.  The player they had taking over for Zimmermann wasn’t nearly as fast.  Bitty had never played against him before and he decided to keep his distance, which seemed to be the right call since he was large but slow and couldn’t get close to Bitty once he put space between them

He saw the puck hit the net, he heard the horns and saw the people jumping up to scream, and once again he was swept up by his teammates.  The feeling was addicting.  It was dangerous.  Bitty’s heart was beating fast and the game was starting to feel like it wasn’t real.  It was like a dream, how he glided over the ice and how his stick fit in his hands.

Bitty blinked fast and tried to focus.  This was real.  He felt his teammates lean against him and he felt the pounding in his head from earlier and he took a deep breath.  The air was cold and crisp and Bitty had to focus.  One more shot.  He just needed to score one more goal and maybe that would be enough to prove he belonged here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, things are fine. Don't worry. Everything is okay.


End file.
